


The War Bride Queen

by Narcissus_rose



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Descriptions of battle, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pregnancy, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Rey Palpatine, Romance, Royalty, Slow Burn, Smut, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), war of the roses setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcissus_rose/pseuds/Narcissus_rose
Summary: Princess Rey Palpatine has never faced such an uncertain future. the death of her father and the disappearance of her brother sent her into hiding while her uncle Snoke reigns as king of England. to end his bloody reign a deal is made without Rey's knowledge that she and a fellow claimant to the throne will marry, uniting the long warring houses of Sith and Jedi. unfortunately for the newly crowned king and queen, there are new troubles on the horizon, both personal and dynastic.It's the war of the roses, but reylo.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hello everybody. before we begin I just wanted to say a MASSIVE thank you to QueenOfCarrotFlowers for inspiring me to write this story by asking me questions about medieval methods of execution.
> 
> I will be upfront and say that updates may be slightly slow because I have another WIP that I'm working on and work for uni that is due so obviously that needs to be the top priority for the moment.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

The moon was high that night, casting a deceitfully peaceful light over the palace grounds. 

In the king's private chapel there was a man in his fifties, with thinning grey hair kneeling in the pews, appearing to an onlooker as if he was praying. The only source of light came from the moon pouring through the stained glass windows, casting bright shadows on the altar and the golden cross that resided upon it.

From the back of the room, a small wooden door was heard creaking open, soon followed by the light footsteps of a second man, taking his place in the row behind.

The first man did not look to see who it was, for he already knew.

“Is there any news?” The older man whispered, doing his best to avoid constantly checking over his shoulder for fear of being overheard.

“None so far, but I think the king will die tonight,” the younger responded in equally hushed tones.

“Is it that bad?”

“As I was walking I heard two maids say the king wished to see his wife and daughters, so they were sent to rouse them from their beds. The only explanation for that at this late hour would be his imminent death.”

“Are there any councillors or advisers with him?”

“None that I know of,” said the younger man, “although I wouldn’t be surprised if the queen had any that were attending him sent away.”

“And what of the prince?”

“He knows nothing. His fathers’ illness was so sudden that nobody has written to inform him. Chances are he will wake up in the morning not knowing that he is now the king.”

“What about the boy's uncle? He’s been strangely absent throughout this whole ordeal.” He could hear the younger man shift uncomfortably, as a feeling of dread began to spread between the two of them.

“We don’t know.”

“Don’t know!” He shouted, before catching himself, frantically looking around to make sure nobody heard the outburst as he calmed himself down, “you're the king's spymaster, nothing happens in England without your knowledge.”

“Unfortunately, the Duke of Snoke is a law unto his own, and right now that is particularly dangerous. If he gets hold of the boy first before the queen does—” he was cut off as they heard someone walking briskly down the corridor and open the door with a loud squeak. 

“My lords!” The woman exclaimed in a hushed tone, “I’m terribly sorry, I did not realize you were in here.”

“There is no need to apologize, it is a chapel open to everyone. We were just praying for the king's health, you may join us if you wish,” the older man offered, before seeing the dark look on the older woman’s face.

“That’s very kind of you sir, but I came to pray for the king's soul. King Robert is dead.”

“Long live the king.”

_Whoever that may be,_ he thought to himself grimly. There was a brief moment of genuine prayer and quiet reflection for the now-dead king. He was a good man, despite his tendency to try and appease everyone around him.

“Do you know who’ll sit on the regency council? The younger Robert is only fourteen and with the best will in the world, he is going to need help,” the woman asked.

“Forgive me for saying this Lady Solo,” the younger man said, “but I doubt that question comes from a place of genuine curiosity given your history.”

“Now, now, Sir Poe, what exactly are you insinuating?”

“I am insinuating that you want your brother and son to return to England, and this changing of the guards so to speak is the perfect opportunity.”

“It would also be a good chance to get her title of Duchess of Naboo restored.” The older man quipped as if she wasn't even there.

“I’m not denying that Sir Gial,” she responded coolly, “it is no secret that I wish to see my son and brother again, as well as have my titles restored. When my father was overthrown I expected my brother and me to be the first on the gallows, but our late king was far more merciful than I presumed, and I hope that mercy was passed onto his son.” 

“How did you hear of the king's death?” Poe asked.

“I was outside the room when it happened with her other ladies and a few of the kings' councillors. The queen sent me to inform one of your messengers.”

“Who did you send?”

“Miss Paige Tico,” Poe grunted his approval of the choice.

“I have to say I’m not entirely sure of this idea of having a woman break such important news,” Akbar grumbled. In recent months, Poe had taken on more women into his spy network, and while the young man had assured the king that it was for honourable purposes, he couldn’t help but be slightly suspicious.

“Her sister Rose is employed at Ludlow with the young king, so I can assure you the message will be received,” Poe replied confidentially, although he was always sure of himself to the point of foolishness. Akbar still was not sure of the plan, always seeing a trap everywhere.

His first cause for concern was the apparent disappearance of Snoke, who should have been by his brother's side, not threatening the position of his nephew. It was common knowledge that Snoke desired power in any form he could take it. His wife was the daughter of the largest landowner in England besides the king, he served as a member of the privy council and was charged with finding Robert a wife (although that was before Robert met Kira and eloped with her, killing any sort of alliance with France, creating a rift between the two brothers). Despite all this power, he wanted more, and there was no doubt that there was nothing he wouldn't do to achieve it.

His second concern was the trust that Queen Kira had placed in Leia, despite herself being a claimant to the throne with a son hidden away in France.

Yes, Lady Solo was a threat. Perhaps the queen was so consumed by the threat posed by her brother-in-law that she could not see any other danger from those around her. After Robert deposed King Anakin the mad, reinstating the Palpatine dynasty, prince Luke and princess Leia had been reduced to nothing more than prisoners. While Luke chose to give up all royal titles and become a monk, Leia never let her ambitions die. Perhaps sending her son away for his protection had caused them to go dormant, but now they had almost certainly begun to wake. He did not think that she would stage a full-blown rebellion to have her son put on the throne, but the new king had many sisters, something that could be used to her advantage.

“And if the message is not received?” he settled to ask.

“Then we pray,” Poe responded, “for all our heads will rest on spikes before the year is out.”

* * *

Rey had never seen a dead body before. As her father lay cold in his bed, with her sisters crying around her, there was a small part of her that expected to see his eyes open and assure everyone that he was merely sleeping. He had been such a big presence in her life but now that was gone and all that was left was uncertainty. 

The only one in that room who wasn’t crying was her mother, doing her best to maintain a visage of strength and stability, but Rey could see through the cracks. From the red rim of her eyes to the pink of her nose, it was clear that the queen was repressing an ocean of tears.

“What’s going to happen now?” She asked her mother, wanting nothing more than to cling onto her skirt like a little girl again.

“Your brother is going to be king,” her mother stated, although they both knew that was a gross oversimplification, “I will make sure of it.”

“And if you can’t?” Rey asked, her question was mostly drowned out by her sister Kira’s grieving wails so only her mother could hear the question.

“You let me worry about that,” she brushed off, pulling her close and stroking her hair the way she used to as a young girl, “we may have to go into hiding, but we will be safe I can promise you that.”

Somehow, Rey was doubtful.

  
  



	2. The Winter of Our Discontent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone, looks like I'm back sooner than expected! 
> 
> the name of the chapter is a bit misleading if you don't know the context. Basically, it's the opening line for Richard III spoken by Richard and he is talking about how it is now the end of everyone's troubles and discontentment. I thought I should mention that because this chapter actually takes place in the summer not the winter and I didn't want to create any confusion.
> 
> as a warning, there is mention of infant death and stillbirths in the chapter. if you want to skip it, it is in the second paragraph from Ben's perspective.
> 
> also if you aren't familiar with the geography of England I suggest you pull up google earth as a reference.

**Five years later**

“Again,” Rey ordered, out of breath and sweating like a hot pig in the sun. The sword in her hand felt heavy and the armour on her shoulders was weighing her down, but she was not ready to give up just yet.

“My lady—”

“Rey,” She corrected. They had known each other for five years. Long enough that they could do without the formalities.

“Rey,” Sir Finn corrected as he stepped forward, “you are only going to exhaust yourself if you keep going now.”

“I don’t care, I’m still not good enough…”

“And you won’t get any better if you’re too exhausted to stand,” Finn replied. What he was doing was technically classified as treason as he had been assigned as one of the knights to keep watch over her and her family and capture anyone caught leaving the walls of the abbey. The monks for the most part ignored their comings and goings, having the ability to pretend they do not see something down to an art. It was incredibly lucky that all the guards seemed to have a treasonous streak within them.

“In the heat of battle, I will be too exhausted to stand, so I should probably get used to it,” Rey countered as Finn pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. If the last five years had taught Rey anything it was that things could always get worse, so it was best to be prepared for everything.

“Please my— Rey,” Finn sighed, “if not for your sake, then for mine, have a rest.” she could only glare at him as she capitulated and dropped her sword. He knew her well enough that she did not mind if she hurt herself with overexertion, but would never risk hurting anyone else. He knew he hated people getting hurt at her expense.

“I’m nowhere near where I should be,” she muttered, “How am I supposed to lead an army if I can’t even fight? They will be watching me more closely because I am a woman, and because my father and grandfather were great warriors. If I am going to take the throne from my uncle I have to inspire confidence in my men and I can’t do that if I drop the sword every time I pick it up!”

“That’s not true…” she cut him off before he could say any more. She needed to vent.

“And my mother has heard rumours that Ben Solo is building an army in France and intends to win the crown for himself! Who is to say that good soldiers won’t join him because he is a man, leaving me with only the weak, the lame and the old? All I can do is let our allies rally troops and invoke the memory of my late father and brother… sorry, he’s not my ‘late brother’ because Snoke has never admitted he’s dead and nobody actually saw his body to prove otherwise. It’s probably buried under a staircase or in a criminal’s grave that will forever remain unmarked.” There was nothing but venom in Rey’s voice. She hated her uncle and could only hope that they met again on the battlefield where she could finally make him pay for what he did to her family. Right now the only thing she could do to hurt him was to use his old title of the Duke of Snoke, and not King Sheev II.

For the last five years, Netley Abbey had been her prison. 

The messenger sent to Ludlow castle to relay the news of their father’s passing never reached her brother, being killed on the road just outside of Oxford. Snoke declared himself lord protector and escorted Robert back to London, where he was taken to the Tower under the guise of tradition where the king would live before he was crowned and anointed. The coronation day never came. He disappeared after three months and Snoke was crowned king. She, her mother and her sisters all escaped London and sought sanctuary after that.

Now to hear that Ben Solo had suddenly developed ambitions that were far above him was only adding insult to injury. That man was nothing more than a pretender to the crown as far as she was concerned. Under any other circumstance, his claim would not be taken seriously as it was tenuous at best, but because he was a man it was all that was needed for success. She had been loved by the people once, but she had lived in obscurity for too long for that love to sustain itself.

“You have too little faith in yourself,” Finn argued as he removed the outer layers of his armour, “you managed to convince me to teach you to fight when it would be a lot easier for me to have just ignored you, and believe it or not, most people have never heard of Ben Solo and even if they have, they are unlikely to support the grandson of Anakin the Mad, just because he is a man.”

His words did bring some comfort, but she wasn’t ready to fully accept it just yet. Right now she just wanted to be angry.

After some rest, he escorted her back into the crypt that she called home. Her sisters were waiting for her, pouncing the moment she stepped through the small door that led to the room where they all slept and took their meals. They were always so excited whenever she got back from training, so hopeful that she would end their imprisonment and set everything right in the world. That was what motivated her the most, her sisters.

“When do you leave?” Dorothea asked as they lay in bed that evening trying to sleep. The crypt was cold and drafty so they all shared a bed to keep warm. The winter months were always the worst and with no hearth, there were many nights where Rey thought that they would not wake when the morning broke.

“Soon,” she whispered to her sister. She felt bad about leaving them alone, but they would have the other two guards to keep them safe and Kira was fifteen and old enough to be responsible for them. They would have had their mother but she was going to assist Rey in Winchester with preparations to march on London.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

“I’ll be back before you even know I’ve gone,” Rey assured, “and by then I’ll be the queen of England and we’ll get to go home.”

“Do you promise?” 

No, she couldn't promise. She couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't be killed on the battlefield, or be grievously injured. She didn't know if this would be the last time she ever saw her sisters, but at that moment, Dorathea just wanted comfort, and that was the least that she could provide.

“I promise.”

* * *

The morning they rode out was cold and damp, with the wind stinging their faces as their horses ran through the Hampshire countryside on their way to Winchester. First, they had to make sure that they reached the village of Jakku just five miles out from Southampton where they would rendezvous with the army that had been amassed in her name.

Rey still wasn't sure whether they would even have an army, or just a few peasants looking for good money. She never trusted Lord Pryde, but for the moment he was one of their only allies and beggars couldn't be choosers, especially if he was the one building her army. For weeks they had corresponded in secret, trying to find a way to undermine Snoke, and it turned out that their opportunity came after the death of his son. 

She had never met the boy as he had always been kept away from court while her father was king, but she was sad for him nonetheless. He was only eleven and it was rumoured that he was a very sickly child and unlikely to live to adulthood. With her uncle’s only legitimate heir gone Rey knew that now was the time to strike as this was when he would be at his weakest and his support amongst the nobility would be wavering. 

Luckily Pryde, in their correspondence, informed her that many nobles who had been on the fence were fully on their side. It was now just a matter of whether they showed up.

As they drew closer, her mother slowed to a stop, causing Rey and Finn to do the same. They were so close they could hear the commotion of the men in the camp, just beyond the hill, and Rey was not happy to be stopped so close to her army.

“Mother, what is it?” Rey asked, trying to hide her irritation.

“Do you see the sunrise just over that hill?” she asked, and Rey nodded, “if we hold off for just a few minutes we may be able to time it just so that as the light is getting stronger but not fully risen.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because the higher the sun gets the more men will be up to see you arrive, and if you put your armour on and let your hair down you will look like a holy warrior,” she explained, “an important part of leadership is presentation. If you appear powerful then people will believe it.” Usually, Rey had little time for her mothers’ theatrics, but she could see the benefits, so she put on her armour and took down her hair.

Slowly they rode up the hill, with her mother and Finn flanking her on either side. Emerging over the precipice of the hill, the sun was blinding and the breeze had picked up her hair making it flow as if it was in water. They paused for a moment and Rey was able to get a look at the army Pryde had raised for her. From her vantage point, it looked as though there were only one thousand men at most and she felt her heart sink in defeat. Not even divine intervention would help with those numbers, not against the king at least.

“We have lost,” she whispered, her words getting lost with the wind. Her eyes were getting watery but she wasn’t sure if it was the wind or the hopelessness, but after a minute, something changed.

The men who noticed her on the hill suddenly stopped in their tracks and stared or ran into their tents, bringing out others with them. Some began to make the sign of the cross when they saw her, others dropped to their knees, and a few cheered. Eventually, as men emerged from their tents Rey could see their numbers growing exponentially and it soon became clear that they had a strong army.

“How many do you think there are?” her mother asked.

“Ten thousand men at least,” Finn uttered in wonder. Rey looked at him and saw pure hope in his eyes.

In the distance, she could see Pryde emerging from the main tent so she spurred the horse and rode down to meet him. She could see how someone would kill for this, to hold the attention of ten thousand men in the palm of your hand, knowing that it is you who makes them weep tears of joy and praise God. Yes, it was intoxicating and easy to lose yourself in it. 

“Your highness,” Pryde greeted in that signature sneer, bringing her back down to earth with a thud. That man had always looked down on her and she had always distrusted him, so she could not let a theatrical entrance make her forget that. His lip was permanently curled down into a sneer, while his hair was cropped short and pushed back away from his face adding to the harshness of his appearance.

“Lord Pryde,” she responded as she dismounted her horse and was led into the main tent, “I assume everything from our correspondences is in motion.”

“Yes, it is, although are you sure you want to take Winchester?”

“The people of Winchester feel no love for my uncle as you informed me and it was once the capital of Alfred the Great. The city is advantageous both strategically and symbolically,” she pointed out.

“And you’re sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you and your siblings were all born there? You know, Reyna, we may have not spoken since the night you left London, but if you are anything like the thirteen-year-old girl I once knew, I know that this level of theatrics has your mother’s name written all over it. You were always the practical one, the sensible one and capturing Winchester isn’t either of those things.” He countered, whispering close to her face and grabbing her arm. His eyes traipsed over her body and Rey felt her skin crawl. Perhaps being shut away from the ages of thirteen to eighteen had its advantages.

“Well I have grown up since then and I’ve learnt that sometimes people need a symbol to look to.”

“You are right about one thing, your highness,” he muttered, “you  _ have  _ grown up.”

Thankfully, her mother walked into the tent and the Lord practically ran away from her. In the center of the tent, there was a long table with a map of England laid out, held down by rocks and swords while men in suits of armour gathered around it, all arguing, although Rey could not hear a word of sense over the noise. Quietly she made her way over and began to study the map. She knew that they had to be swift with taking Winchester before marching on to London so as not to give the king's army time to prepare properly.

As she studied it she found her eyes were drawn to the edge of France and the port of Calais, only a few miles from Dover. She couldn't help but wonder if the Solo pretender was planning on taking advantage of the proximity. 

“Your highness,” Finn said, getting her attention. The whole table was staring at her and she realized with almost terrifying clarity that she was expected to lead these people in battle. These people would lay down their lives for her right to rule, and the least she could do was prove to them that it wouldn’t be in vain.

It was time to get to work.

* * *

After spending years in France Ben wasn’t sure what to expect when he landed on English soil. Whatever he expected it wasn’t the total indifference he felt as the white cliffs of Dover shone in the pale moonlight as his armies approached on their borrowed French ships. He was not one to be overcome with emotion, but the nothingness he felt surprised him.

As a boy, he longed to return and see his parents, but as the years passed his faith in his mother’s ability to bring him back began to waver. He was not considered a threat until king Robert failed to produce an heir time and time again. Each time the baby was born either dead or lived long just about enough for it to be named. Ben's very existence was a threat while the king had no son, and so he was sent away for safety as potential claimants from House Jedi were imprisoned or killed. 

“Is it as you remember?” his uncle asked as Ben stood on the bow of the ship. The air was cold that night, unusually so for early June, as the biting breeze and jagged waves were more characteristic for February.

“I don't know what I remember,” he admitted frankly, “I won't pretend to harbour any warm feelings for the place.” The only thing he really remembered was being told that the king had sent the Duke of Snoke after him and if he wanted to live he and his uncle were to go and hide in France.

“Spoken like a true Englishman,” his uncle replied as the anchor was dropped and the men prepared to board the transport boats to the shore. He was to take the first one with his knights so that they were the first to arrive to lead the army. He supposed there was also a symbolic element to it, having him reach land first.

Each one of his knights was dressed in their full suit of armour, ready for any resistance, should they meet it. It was unlikely, but the reflection of the moon against their suits of armour had an eerie quality to it.

“I hear your mother has everything organized for us,” his knight Sir Vincent said as they loaded themselves onto the little boat, “all we have to do is show up.” His explanation was a bit simplistic but it wasn't far from the truth. His mother loved playing with fire and planning a rebellion at the heart of the English court should have burnt her, but somehow she has, of yet, avoided the flames. 

“There is a little more to it than that, but you aren't far off,” he admitted as they began to float towards the coast. Most of the short ride was spent in silence while the rest of the soldiers sent by the French king followed. 

In the distance he could make out the figure of a man standing on the beach, watching as the rowboats sailed towards the land. The figure just stood there and watched, so Ben surmised that whoever it was, they must have been sent by his mother for they did not appear to panic as they saw an army approach.

“Lord Solo,” the man greeted as they landed on the beach, “I have been expecting you.” He was about Ben’s age and had a handsome face from what he could see in the dim light.

“Who are you?” He asked as he jumped out waded through the frigid waves, pulling the boat onto shore with him. He didn’t have time for any niceties at that moment. He was cold and had the weight of the world on his shoulders and couldn’t muster the energy to put on his courtly airs and graces. 

“I am Sir Poe Dameron, your mother sent me. She couldn’t be here in person and there is much you need to know.”

“Can I ask why she sent you?”

“I was King Robert’s spymaster,” he explained as Ben joined him on the sand, “after he died your mother and I began working together. I may have lost my position but I still have my connections, and if this invasion is going to be successful you are going to need them.” There was a cocky lilt to Sir Poe’s voice that irked Ben.

He simply grunted in response. His main priority was ensuring that his army all reached the shore and that a freak wind didn’t blow them off course and they didn’t find themselves washed up on the Isle of Wight the next day. Sir Poe was speaking, but Ben was paying little attention to him. He was mostly describing courtly politics that were of little concern to him at that moment.

“There is one other thing sir and I would appreciate it if you tried to listen as it is of immediate concern to you,” Poe said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Ben could already tell that they weren’t going to get along, not that it particularly bothered him.

“What is it?” 

“I have just received word that Princess Rey is also amassing an army and looks as if they are set to take Winchester.” Ben didn’t try and hide his confusion when he heard the name.

“Who?”

“I am talking about Princess Reyna,” he explained, “King Robert’s eldest daughter. Those who knew her all called her Rey.”

“I thought the princesses all died shortly after their brother.”

“The queen went into hiding and claimed sanctuary at an abbey in Southampton, but I can assure you they are very much alive.”

Ben didn’t try to hide the anger bubbling up inside of him at this apparent oversight by his mother. Not only did he have to defeat the king's army, but now he had to take on some over-ambitious teenager that spent most of her life hidden away and probably didn’t know the first thing about war or leadership. He now had two enemies he needed to fight.

“Ben this could be to our advantage,” Sir Thomas pointed out, noting his anger and trying to intervene before Ben began shouting at the former spymaster, “with the kings army split in two—”

“It could be to her advantage as well. The best outcome for us would be if she is defeated and the king decides to lead his army against us,” he countered. He was going to say more but the expression that Poe wore on his face unsettled him as if he was missing an important piece of context. Thomas noticed as well and they both shared a confused glance while Poe Dameron grinned like an idiot as though this was the funniest thing in the world.

Ben was very tempted to hit him with a heavy object. There was a large rock by the cliff that looked very tempting indeed. 

“Your mother did anticipate this,” he said mischievously, as though he was enjoying drawing out the agony.

“Are you going to fucking tell me or are you just going to let us freeze to death?” Ben snapped, after a moment of silence, frightening Poe slightly.

“What I was going to say, was that your mother knew that the princess would raise an army which is why she has been conversing with the dowager queen in secret for some time now. In their correspondence it has been agreed that should you both be victorious on the battlefield, you will be given over to each other in marriage to unite the houses of Jedi and Sith.”

For a moment Ben didn’t believe he heard correctly and gawped at him like a fish. 

“What?”

“I said that you’re going to be married to a princess,” Poe reinforced, before sauntering away as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Congratulations mate,” Thomas said, once he was out of earshot.

“Shut up,” he shot back, before rejoining the rest of his men. He would focus on marriage later, but now his efforts needed to be directed at his army if they were going to take Canterbury the next day. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it and before anyone says anything, yes I know that the term "spymaster" wasn't officially used until the time of Elizabeth I, but it's a cool name and it just fits with Poe's personality so well I couldn't resist.


	3. To be Won

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait everybody. school has been A Lot recently and I've also been working on my other WIP the diary of ben solo, so I haven't had much time to write this chapter.
> 
> also, sorry to any members of the Richard III society who are reading this because there is an almost 1:1 comparison between Snoke and the Tudor version of Richard and it's only going to get stronger.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Winchester had been easy. The people had practically welcomed them in with open arms, cheering Rey as she rode her horse through the narrow streets. She wore her armour with her hair down, just like the morning she arrived at the camp and once again people were looking at her with wonder. Her mother told her that she had to be impassive, not to look at the crowds lining the street, but for a moment Rey allowed herself to be weak and glance down. As she turned her head she saw a little girl in a dirty blue dress looking up at her, and maybe it was the auburn hair, or maybe it was her age, but she reminded Rey so much of Dorathea. She broke the visage of the warrior queen and smiled at the girl who seemed to light up the moment she did. From then on Rey gave up on the painted stoicism that she was told that she must don for a victory parade.

Those around her said that she couldn't smile or else the people wouldn't take her seriously as a leader and only see her as a thirteen-year-old girl again. While Rey understood that, it appeared to be that people preferred to see her smiling and it seemed like they enjoyed sharing her victory.

“They love you,” Finn whispered as he brought his horse closer to hers.

“We can only hope that it will sustain itself,” Rey muttered. She was afraid of getting ahead of herself or being too optimistic. For years her life had been secure, but in the space of a week it had all fallen apart and from then on she knew that nothing was ever promised. Not safety, not power, and not the ones you love.

Their procession ended at Winchester castle, where the army would rest before marching on to London. In truth, Rey was glad that the parade was over; despite it being June there was a chill in the air and it looked like it was going to rain. There was some sun peeking through the black clouds, but the light was growing dimmer and dimmer. She did not look forward to marching in a storm but she also did not want to sit like a duck and risk defeat.

“How was that, your first taste of victory?” her mother asked as they made their way down to the castle vaults. Snoke had been residing in the castle until April, and their chief steward always kept a meticulous record of every person who walked through the castle gates. Seeing as it was from April it would give them a good idea of who was within Snoke's inner circle and who was still alive.

Her mother seemed incredibly anxious to reach the record, and Rey had a sneaking suspicion that it was for reasons that she was not privy to. Recently her mother appeared to be incredibly secretive as if every word she spoke was laced with a hidden meaning that Rey could not decipher. Even Finn had noticed her behaviour, having seen her receive messages from a cloaked stranger before burning the paper to stop prying eyes from learning whatever secret she held. She was yet to confront her mother but she knew at some point she needed to.

If she was going to be queen there could be no secrets.

“It wasn't a real victory,” Rey responded as they opened the old wooden door to the vaults, torch in hand to aid their vision in the grim, windowless room, “the guards saw our banners and let us walk in. They announced we were here and the people celebrated. That isn't victory.” her mother did not respond, instead choosing to peruse the shelves until she found the record, searching line by line for every name that they knew they could rely on when they reached London and to see if anyone had died during the five years. 

For a while they looked through until they saw a shadow in the doorway, lurking and watching them.

“Your highnesses,” Pryde drawled as Rey glanced up from the cobweb-covered parchment as he looked to her mother, “it wouldn't be impertinent of me if I asked to speak with you alone?” 

“Not at all,” her mother answered for her, swooping past and closing the door as they walked out into the hallway. Naturally, Rey pressed her ear up against the wood to listen to their conversation, not wanting to miss a single forbidden word.

“Have you considered my offer?” Pryde asked in a hushed voice.

“Yes and my answer is the same as it was before,” her mother whispered back with certainty and a familiar tinge of anger that Rey recognized well, “you will not marry my daughter.” For a brief moment, Rey wasn’t sure that she had heard correctly. She had never really thought much about marriage. She supposed that she would have to eventually if she wanted to secure the succession, but she had never given it much thought. As a child, she had expected that she would be married off to a king to secure some alliance, but after her brother’s death, all prospects of an advantageous marriage faded away.

“But Kira surely—”

“You know my title and I expect you to use it,” her mother snapped back. Rey had to suppress a laugh at that. Her mother hated titles for the most part but did occasionally like to laud hers over people's heads to irritate them. It was a holdover from her days of being a lowly knight’s daughter turned queen of England.

“My queen,” the Lord replied, correcting himself, “there are many advantages to a union between our families—”

“But that does not negate the fact that you are old enough to be her father!” she could hear her mother’s whispered fury, “she is barely out of childhood and I will not marry her off to a man that has children her own age. Tell me, my lord, why don't you put forward one of your sons? You have plenty of them.”

“I would, your highness,” he practically spat her title at her, “but unfortunately had you been at court these last five years you would know that with the exception of my youngest, they are all married, as are most of the eligible young men in England.” but her mother did know that fact; she had heard it from one of the monks who had the misfortune of running into his youngest son as he was passing through the nearby village. The monk had told them how the young Pryde boasted of all his sibling’s marriages and how all his friends had married high-born women as well. Although he apparently mostly talked about how flat-chested they were and how his future wife would have a bountiful bosom. 

Irritating git. At least his name hadn’t been put down as a potential husband for her.

“That fact doesn’t endear me to the idea of marrying off my daughter to you. And as you said, your youngest is unmarried and the same age as my daughter, so why not put his name forward?”

“George is a foolish boy who couldn’t use his common sense to save his life and that is the last thing England needs at this moment. If she will be queen she will need a husband to tell her what to do. I served under your husband and am one of the few of his councillors to avoid having his head decorate London Bridge. She will need my guidance.”

“You mean you shall rule through her,” her mother spat.

“She is a woman and—”

“Am I not a woman?” Her mother interrupted sharply, “and are you not here asking me for my daughter’s hand? You stand and speak as though my sex is a hindrance to me as if I do not know my own daughter when you are practically on your knees begging me to give you power that only I can bestow. You may delude yourself into thinking that, because you built the army you may do as you please and demand Reyna as a reward, but you are mistaken. These men follow my daughter and when she takes London she will be a mightier king than you could ever dream to be.”

There was a moment of tense silence before he finally spoke, his words laced with venom, “you know Kira, I am not the fool you take me for. I know you have found another arrangement for your daughter, that is why you aren’t stringing me along as is your usual style. Have I got that right?” Her mother made no answer and Rey felt as if her heart was in her throat.

Had her mother arranged a match behind her back? Was that why she had been receiving those private messages? If that was the case why had she not been honest with her? 

Her mother whispered something but it was so quiet Rey could not hear what was being said. For a while they had a whispered conversation before Pryde returned to his previous volume, announcing, “I see there is no changing your mind and so I will let the matter rest.”

Her mother accepted his defeat and bid him farewell before walking back to the vault. Rey had just enough time to get back to the record and make it look as though she hadn't just had her ear pressed to the door. Maybe she noticed that something was amiss, but her mother never let on, instead choosing to believe that her daughter was suddenly afflicted with a chronic lack of curiosity. 

As they worked in silence her mothers’ words rang in her ears like church bells. If she was going to be queen she needed to be married to secure the succession. Given the choice, she would probably choose Finn, not because she loved him, but he was a good friend and she supposed that they would be happy enough. 

Although judging by Pryde’s words, it seemed that the choice had already been made for her.

“Darling,” her mother said, pulling Rey from her thoughts, “have you seen any record of any messengers coming through?”

“Lots, why?”

“Are there any unnamed ones at all?”

“No…”

“Oh that’s good,” she sounded genuinely quite relieved.

Rey could only imagine why. She was going to ask but the sounds of hurried running down the corridor stopped her. In the doorway stood a young man about twenty, red-faced and out of breath with a panicked look in his eyes.

“What is it?” Rey asked.

“We have received word, your highness, that Ben Solo’s forces have taken Canterbury,” Rey saw only red as the man spoke. For a moment she was overcome with only anger, white, hot and dizzying. Very little was clear in Rey's mind apart from one thing:

The battle was over; the war had begun.

* * *

The marching felt endless; the sound of armour clanging together was defending, the men were tired, and that was to say nothing of the shadow of hopelessness Rey felt was hanging over her. The night before they had discussed every possible outcome and they had quickly concluded that their best-case scenario was for Snoke to join his army in the fight against Rey, and Solo’s army out in Canterbury to be defeated in the process. While that was the perfect outcome they knew that they had to be prepared for all eventualities.

_ “And if you die in battle?”  _ Finn had asked in hushed tones so her mother did not hear.

_ “Then Kira will take my place,”  _ she responded, although the prospect of her sister taking up the mantle did not fill her with confidence.

That night they pitched their tents outside the forest of Endor, knowing that just beyond those trees, Snoke’s army did the same, preparing for battle. That was probably why her mother insisted on staying with her, knowing that the time was near and they may never see each other again.

“Do you have any messages you would like me to carry?” Rey asked as she rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. Despite having an army of ten thousand men, they had received word that they were outnumbered and the prospects of Rey seeing the next sunset were looking dimmer and dimmer.

“What?”

“If I don’t make it tomorrow, is there anything you wish to say to father and Robert?” Her mother tried to stop her from finishing the sentence, but Rey persisted. She knew her mother hated thinking of her death but it needed to be said.

Her mother sighed sadly and pressed a kiss to her head saying, “tell them that I love them and miss them every day. If God forbid, you see them again tomorrow, I want Robert to know that I’m sorry I couldn’t save him and the guilt will follow me to the grave. For your father, tell him I love him, and for your other sisters and brothers that you never met, I want them to know that no matter how brief their time on earth was I will always carry them with me.”

Rey agreed and shortly after they fell asleep with tears in their eyes. When the dawn broke over the horizon the air was crisp and the sky was clear as a mist rolled over the grassy green hills. Under any other circumstance, Rey would have found the day to be most beautiful and serene, but the ugly shadow of the grim reaper's scythe hung over the camp as men prepared for battle. By now she was sure that word had spread of the king's advantage and there was no doubt in her mind that morale was running low if the despondent look on everyone's faces was any indication. As she sat on her horse, looking down at the soldiers about to march into the woods, she knew that something had to be done; the battle hadn't even started and already they all looked as if they had lost.

_ They think they are walking to their deaths,  _ she realized, and with that thought, fiery determination flooded her veins.

“Beyond the wood lies the king's army,” she announced to the rows of men, watching her every move, hanging on to her every word, “I know you feel lost, I know you think that because we are outnumbered defeat is imminent, but it's not! I stand before you today, asking as a fellow soldier, who will fight with you and even die with you that you do not lose hope. When my father took back the throne from Anakin the mad his numbers were fewer and his army poorer, but still they were victorious against the usurper. Once again, we must fight for England’s very soul against a usurper, just as my father did all those years ago. I know how you look at me, I know that you see a weak and feeble woman asking you to risk your lives for her chance to sit on the throne, and I know some are wondering if it is worth it. I tell you now, that I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a lion, and a king of England too. So fight with me, and put an end to this bloody tyrant's reign.” 

As she finished her speech a cheer rose from the men with the metallic sound of fists being raised triumph. Now as she scanned her men, she saw only hope in their eyes. With newfound confidence they marched into the forest, ready for whatever fate had for them.

As they drew deeper into the thick trees, Rey's focus narrowed, onto one thing and one thing only; the thing she had desired ever since the day her brother and his serving boy disappeared from the Tower of London.

Revenge.

* * *

From the start they were at a disadvantage; they were outnumbered, poorly armoured, and the terrain was against them. When they arrived at the battlefield, Snokes’ army already had the high ground and after endless rain ever since taking Canterbury, the freshly ploughed field was so muddy that the horses would most likely drown if they stepped onto it. To any onlooker, it would appear that Ben Solo had lost before the fight even began, and if he was honest with himself, he was also of that belief in the beginning. 

Perhaps the battle would have been lost had it not been for sir Killian pointing out how heavily armed the king's men were. They were practically wearing anvils around their necks and would sink the moment they set foot at the bottom of the hill. His plan was to take off most of their armour apart from the essentials and hope that they would be able to move better. To start with, Ben was unsure, but at that moment there was a drought of ideas and Killians was the best.

In the end, the plan worked. Most of Snokes’ army could barely move while Ben and his men were able to cut them down where they stood. That wasn’t to say it was easy; many of his men died from avoidable wounds, but most of the deaths occurred on Snokes' side. By the time the king's army had realized that they had walked into a trap, it was too late. 

The battle had lasted only an hour when the king had joined the fray. Perhaps he did it to rally his men, but the sight of Snoke set ablaze a fire deep within Ben's soul and he began fighting harder than ever. There stood the very man who sent his minions to France to try and kill him his whole life. Memories of rusty daggers and cloaked men flashed before his eyes and he realized this may be his only opportunity to take his revenge.

He and his knights managed to break away from the main battle and charged up to the king. His personal guards were easy pickings, taking almost no time to kill. The king on the other hand put up more of a fight, but soon he too fell to Ben's sword.

It was odd, the death of the king. Ben expected something more dramatic than a simple stab with a sword. He thought that there would at least be some last words about treachery or how he would trade his kingdom for an escape. In the end, the king died like a common soldier, in a muddy field in Kent. 

Once Snoke was dead and the dust had settled, he was proclaimed king of England. The crown that had rested upon Snoke’s helm had been removed and placed upon his head as his soldiers bowed in respect. 

He couldn’t quite believe it. There was a small part of him that thought his army would be seen as nothing more than a little rebellion to eventually be forgotten by history. As men shouted ‘long live the king’ and he felt the weight of a crown upon his head he realized with blinding clarity that he now ruled them all. He was the most powerful man in England.

For a moment, he let himself revel in it.

* * *

When the battle was over, Rey felt only blinding rage. Against all odds they were victorious, but yet she could not revel in it.

Her uncle hadn’t been there. He had joined his army in Canterbury against the pretender and lost. It was not even midday when she heard the news. They were still counting the dead when a messenger arrived to inform her that her uncle had been killed and Solo was victorious, proclaiming himself king. 

She had felt such a torrent of emotions that she wasn’t sure which one had prevailed. She didn’t know if it was the dread of looking her mother in the eye and telling her that their chance to avenge Robert was stolen by the son of lady Solo, a woman her mother once considered a close friend. She didn’t know if it was the guilt that nearly fourteen thousand men lay dead in a forest to be forgotten about for nothing. She didn’t know if it was the anger at her lost opportunity for revenge or the guilt of knowing that these men died for nothing that overwhelmed her.

She may not have been sure how she felt, but the one thing that was clear in her mind was that she would not let the matter lie. She refused to roll over like a dog for the likes of Ben Solo and admit defeat. She was Reyna Palpatine of the house of Sith and she would fight until she was the last woman standing.

“What are you going to do now?” Finn asked as they rode back to camp, the stench of battle still lingering on their skin.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, crestfallen.

“I don’t believe you're just going to give up,” he said, “you're too stubborn for something as petty as giving up.” A small smile ghosted her lips for the first time that day. They continued to ride in silence as Rey ran over all her severely limited options. As she ran over everything that had happened in the last few days an idea began to form in her mind, and she realized that all was not lost.

She still had a chance.

Maybe this way she could make things right.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> historical notes:  
> Rey's speech: yes I know I stole "I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a lion and a king of England too" from Elizabeth I, but it is such a great line that I had to use it.
> 
> Ben's battle strategy: I just used Henry V's battle strategy at Agincourt because a) it's pretty ingenious, and b) I can get a reference to "the high ground" in there.
> 
> Snoke's death: I had to reference Richard III's line "a horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse," from the Shakespeare play because it's so iconic and fitting of Snoke's character
> 
> the number of dead in Rey's battle: I know that the death toll may look like a lot, but in the battle of Towton historians estimate that 50,000 to 60,000 men took part, so I figured that, in the context of those numbers, 14,000 dead in one battle wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility.

**Author's Note:**

> just reiterating that updates will be slow for the next few weeks but they will come and I'll probably open every new chapter with 'sorry for the long wait...'
> 
> and once again thank you QueenOfCarrotFlowers for the inspiration.


End file.
